


in silent screams, in wildest dreams (i never dreamed of this)

by haymitch (noblydonedonnanoble)



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-28
Updated: 2014-12-28
Packaged: 2018-03-03 23:34:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2892215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noblydonedonnanoble/pseuds/haymitch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Haymitch thinks he might vomit as he steps forward. His voice shakes, but it still carries across the entirety of the crowd as he announces, “I volunteer as tribute.”</p><p> </p><p>Haymitch in the arena AU</p>
            </blockquote>





	in silent screams, in wildest dreams (i never dreamed of this)

                When the announcement is made, he is almost immediately engulfed by a strong current of rage. It is in that moment that he lets out a tremendous shout, a shout from deep in his gut that reaches the empty rooms, the far corners of his house and fills them with an anger that none of his words could sufficiently express. It is in that moment that he flings a glass at the wall, as though somehow, even from the Capitol, President Snow will feel his fury.

                This initial anger doesn’t last long. It begins to fade when Peeta arrives at his door, begging Haymitch to do everything in his power to keep Katniss safe.

                By the time Katniss arrives an hour later, the rage is long gone, replaced by an inevitable, persistent sadness that weighs Haymitch down. Pulls him down, drowns him. He hardly has energy to fight it, to disregard the terror that fills him at the very thought of once again entering that arena.

                Yet he still makes the promise to her—working all the while to keep his voice from shaking: yes. If Effie pulls Peeta’s name, he will volunteer. Yes. Keeping the boy alive will be Haymitch’s priority, through and through.  

                And saying the words feels like a punch to the gut because to say that he values Peeta over Katniss is laughable.

                Not that Haymitch picks favorites. He dislikes them both equally. Words that he repeats to half-empty wine bottles, to his reflection in the mirror. He shouts them, sometimes, in the dead of night when he’s too drunk to care whether he’ll be a bother. He lives by the mantra.

                He finds that easier to believe than the truth.

\--

                As the day of the reaping grows near, Haymitch finds himself hoping that his name will be drawn, so that Peeta will volunteer. He tells himself that it’s because he’ll be able to do more from the outside, be better able to plan this… whatever it is. Not a rebellion—he lacks the heart to call it that until it works. If it works.

                But he tells himself that’s why he’s praying, with every fiber of his being, that he’ll remain outside the arena.

                When he wakes up in a cold sweat, screaming and throwing punches at nonexistent combatants, Haymitch gropes for a bottle and drinks the terror away.

                So perhaps he is afraid. If only a little.

\--

                Effie fumbles around for a near-comical length of time before selecting one of the slips. Rather, Haymitch might find it comical if he were simply watching the spectacle. As it is, his mouth is dry, and his stomach is doing uncomfortable flips, and there is absolutely nothing comical about this moment.

                “Peeta Mellark.”

                Haymitch thinks he might vomit as he steps forward. His voice shakes, but it still carries across the entirety of the crowd as he announces, “I volunteer as tribute.”

                And Peeta grabs hold of his arm, tries to argue, but Haymitch hears nothing as he tugs himself away and goes to join Effie and Katniss center stage. He meets Katniss’s gaze and nods almost imperceptibly. The corner of her mouth begins to lift, but then they are being pulled forcefully off-stage and she’s certainly not smiling anymore, not then.

\--

                Haymitch has no patience for Peeta, who pulls him aside almost immediately upon stepping onto the train.

                “Why did you do that?”

                 A death wish, maybe. Seems the only plausible explanation. To be sure, Haymitch was not aware that he had one, but he must, if he’s willing to go back into the arena.

                But that’s not it and he knows it. “Katniss wants you safe.”

                “I’m of much more use inside the arena than I am outside. You and I both know that.”

                Although inclined to agree, Haymitch shakes his head. “No use talking about it now. What’s done is done. I don’t want you bringing it up again.”

                “But—”

                Haymitch scowls and promptly cuts him off. “Listen. Given that there’s a high chance that I’m not coming out of this alive, you’ll have to forgive me if I don’t really want to give you an opportunity to make me regret my decision. When this is all over, feel free to grouse. Until then, I’d appreciate it if you’d keep your mouth shut.”

                Perhaps because he’s so startled, Peeta nods his agreement. “Sure, okay.”

\--

                It’s not until they enter the training center that Haymitch realizes just how out of his depth he is. Half of them are already primed to be allies, but those aren’t the ones he’s concerned about. He watches the Careers, most of whom look like they never _left_ the Games, they’re so vicious and aggressive.

                He doesn’t want to go into an arena with them, because he can’t look at them and believe that there’s any chance of him coming out alive.

                Katniss, though. He watches Katniss positively shine in the shooting range and his heart sings because she can _do_ this, even if he can’t. He watches the Careers watching her, and when she’s not looking, Haymitch notes fear in their eyes.

                That’s his girl. Even the biggest and baddest feel threatened by her.

                She comes away from training that day feeling drained, and maybe looking it a bit too. After all, she has no patience for playing nice.

                Haymitch presses his hand lightly to her back and guides her into the elevator, away from the crowd of other tributes. The door closes and belatedly, he thinks to drop his hand back to his side. “You did good, sweetheart,” he tells her.

                “Are you sure?” she asks. Haymitch notes actual concern in her tone, a brief glimpse past her usual indifferent façade.

                Of course he’s sure. Katniss is going to walk out of this unscathed, and that’s quite possibly the only thing he’s sure of, now.

\--

                He hates all of the pomp and circumstance of the Games, not least of all because he’s being reminded every moment that he lacks any sort of marketable qualities. He’s just a bitter old drunk past his prime, and no matter how they dress him up, that’s what people are going to see. 

                But Caesar makes a valiant effort during his interview anyway, and almost immediately he asks the one thing that will make Haymitch appear even vaguely sympathetic.

                “I’m sure all of us have drawn our own conclusions about the reaping, but I’d like to hear from you, Haymitch… what compelled you to volunteer in Peeta Mellark’s place?”

                Haymitch’s world goes silent for a split second as he looks over the crowd, as he finds Peeta sitting with Cinna, Effie, and the others right near the front. He can hardly make them out through the lights; there is even some doubt in his mind whether it _is_ Peeta. But he directs his words to the silhouette in the audience anyway. “I just thought that, even if _I_ don’t make it through the Games…” He hesitates. “Maybe our favorite couple could still have their happy ending.”

                Caesar smiles and nods, looking genuinely touched.

\--

                In the chaos of the Cornucopia, Haymitch doesn’t find Katniss. Johanna finds him first, and he retreats into the jungle with her, Beetee, Wireress, and Blight. They finally pause for a few minutes to rest, and while they’re sitting still, he allows himself to worry.

                “I hope Finnick got to her,” he mumbles.

                Beetee and Wiress are quietly discussing something, and Blight has wandered off to explore their surrounding area, so Johanna is the only one who hears him. She lets out a laugh that dies as soon as she sees Haymitch’s stern expression, which betrays the depth of his concern. “Hey, even if he didn’t, she’s probably fine. Up hiding in some tree by now, I’m sure.”

                “She shouldn’t be alone, though. I promised I’d protect her.”

                “Yeah, we all did,” Johanna reminds him, her voice low. “We’ll find them, Haymitch.”

                Their conversation is interrupted by a loud zap coming from some yards away, followed by a louder thump.

                “Blight!” Johanna screams, springing to her feet and running in the direction of the sound.

                He’s lying on the ground, unconscious, the force field still shimmering slightly where he must have hit it.

                Attempts to revive him are in vain, and the cannon sounds.

 --

                The first shout is faint enough that Haymitch can tell himself that he’s imagining it.

                But by the third scream of “Haymitch!” there is no doubt in his mind that Katniss is calling for him. She’s in trouble and she’s calling for him.

                He runs after the sound blindly, stumbling over roots and bushes in a desperate attempt to reach Katniss. He calls out to her, and though he can hear Johanna, Beetee and Wiress chasing after him and begging him to slow down, he ignores them.

                Finally Haymitch enters a clearing, in which several jabberjays are congregated, and he understands.

                In his anger, he gathers rocks from the ground and flings them at the birds. Because while it might be a relief to discover that Katniss is not in danger, he really does not need a reminder of how much it would destroy him if something were to happen to her.

                “What the hell was that?” Johanna demands breathlessly, as the other three finally reach the clearing.

                “It was nothing.”

                He’d apologize, but he really isn’t sorry. If he heard Katniss shouting for him, he’d take off again in an instant, just on the off-chance that it could be real.

\--

                The blood rain is one of the most disgusting things Haymitch has experienced in his entire life, and emerging onto the beach and promptly submerging himself in the water is one of the most satisfying, if only in the extent of relief that it provides.

                His delight only increases when he resurfaces to see Finnick running to Johanna from farther down the beach, and his gaze flicks over to someone else, who spots him at the exact same time.

                Katniss stumbles into the water and tackles him eagerly, enveloping him in a tight hug.

                “Every time I heard the cannon I was scared it was you,” she breathes.

\--

                “How long are we going to keep up this charade?” Katniss asks.

                “What charade?”

                She gestures vaguely toward Beetee, Johanna, and Finnick, who are sitting closer to the tree line as they determine their plan for the night. “This. It’s only a matter of time before we have to turn on them.”

                If only he could explain the bigger plan. As it is, all he says is, “Don’t you trust me?”

                Katniss looks affronted. “Of course I do, I just…”

                “Trust me on this, sweetheart. We should keep this alliance going a while longer.”

\--

                Haymitch had originally been so relieved when Beetee instructed him and Katniss to go together to unwind the coil of cord—both because he knew Katniss would be more at ease, and because he would rather not be stuck guarding Beetee if the tributes from Two chose to show up.

                But now Brutus and Enobaria have targeted him and Katniss instead, and he wishes more than anything that Johanna or Finnick were with her instead. Because the look that she gives him when he pushes her to the ground and cuts into her arm to pull her tracker out…

                She looks so confused and hurt and betrayed and it destroys him to see her looking at him that way.

                “For God’s sake, sweetheart, just trust me and stay _down_.”

                And then he’s running for his life and Enobaria and Brutus are right behind him, steadily gaining.

                One of them hits him with a knife in the back and he faceplants in the dirt. It doesn’t kill him, but the two Careers must figure that it will do its job soon enough, because they leave him in search of the other tributes.

                The lightning strike echoes through the arena, and moments later he hears the roof of the dome explode.

                So their plan has worked.

                Haymitch wonders if he’s going to die here, just when he was really starting to believe that he’d make it out. He doesn’t want to die, not if he would have the opportunity to explain to Katniss personally why he couldn’t tell her all about these plans for rebellion. Not if he could participate in the war and maybe, just maybe, live to see Panem free from the Capitol’s control.

                But then, the rebels are not the only ones who might pick him up.

                He hopes he does die before the Capitol gets to him, if that is the alternative. Because he has no doubt—that would be a fate far worse than death.


End file.
